Broken
by Vivere Libri
Summary: After the Giant War. the Seven are broken; some dead, some scarred, some beyond repair. Percy and Annabeth braved the horrors of Tartarus, but they paid a price. Even in victory, our favorite heroes are reduced to shells of their former selves. Series of one-shots that do not all correspond.
1. Chapter 1

Her piercing scream is what wakes you, like every other night. Automatically you find your arms wound firmly around the body of the shaking woman. She sobs, horrible, heartbroken.

"I was _there_, I was there," Her shaking and sobbing and gasping is painful.

"Shhh," You try and soothe her. "You are in my apartment in New York. We got out a year and two months ago. We won. We closed the doors of death."

Her sobs get quieter. "And Hazel died." Her voice is no longer hysterical, but a soft whisper. And all you can do is hold tighter.

"I know. But we saw her. Remember? What did she tell us?"

"She saw her mom." She takes horrible, gasping breathes to try and stifle the new tears. "She said she was OK and, and-"

She breaks off and takes deep breaths. "I was back there. It was dark, one of the times when we couldn't find light. I couldn't feel your hand, I can _always_ feel your hand when it's dark but I couldn't this time and I was scared,"

Your finger traces a pattern on her back, and all you can do is listen. For some reason, the nightmares don't come to disturb you. You wish you could take them away though. You would suffer through every nightmare if it would help Annabeth.

Instead, you suffer from the occasional hallucination. In the beginning, you couldn't stand it. But now you can walk around the city, even though images of burning people and monsters' mouths dripping with blood are flashing through your mind.

"I'm sorry, I keep waking you up."

"You don't have to apologize to me Annabeth."

Silence follows. Your finger traces a heart on her back and one hand runs through her hair soothingly.

"I love you, Wise Girl."

Very little things bring a smile to Annabeth's face now. But you think you may see a small one.

"Love you too, Seaweed Brain," Her faces is streaked with tears and her nose is red, but with that small, rare smile you see the most beautiful woman in the world.

You can't help but think that this is only a shell of what she used to be.

But that's ok, because you are a shell too. And it used to be worse. It is getting better. You have to convince yourself, that yes, it _is_.

Very little stops you from joining Hazel. You know that if you ever brought it up with Annabeth, she would agree. It sounds like a very good idea right now. But his little half-sister that was born when he was fighting and his mother's smile and the times when they just sit and talk to Chiron in the Big House because he understands make all the difference.

You can do it, living. Don't you deserve that at least? Isn't that what you always fought for?

**This came out of the blue and I wrote it in thirty minutes (I think) but I absolutely love it and I ****almost ****cried. **

**I was originally inspired by the song "A Team" but this story ended winding a different way. I will probably write something else to go with that song…**

**About the Hazel dying thing… I am so sorry. But I thought her death would be the least traumatic, seeing as she already died and her mom was there and stuff.**

**Honestly? I wouldn't be surprised if Riordan killed Percy and Annabeth. In the words of CassJayTuck, THEY ARE TIRED. Go look at her review of MoA on Youtube because it is spot on. Percy and Annabeth are our old heroes who have been cleaning up the Gods' mess for so long. Their deaths sort of make sense in a horrible tear-my-heart-out sort of way.**

**Review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Shattered

He remembers fragments of the past month, but not the whole thing. He remembers the light burning his eyes. It took him a long time to be able to adjust to the sun. The warmth on his skin and the _brightness_ of it all were so foreign after being in the dark prison. And then he was thrown into chaos.

The final battle was a blur. He slashed and cut, never leaving Annabeth's side. It had all happened so fast, and then it was over.

Just like that.

The gods took pity on them and transported them to Olympus, where they recovered. He remembered Apollo healing his physical injuries.

And he remembered the first time he saw _it_. Monsters made of smoke that spoke of further destruction. His family, his friends, Annabeth, lying dead on the ground. They were cold and pale, and then they turned into mutilated corpses that were twisted and arranged in unnatural positions, as if every bone in their body had been broken.

He reacted when he saw the first monster, pulling out Riptide, his ever faithful sword, and attacking it. But it turned to smoke. Whispers filled his head, saying horrible things. Percy was no genius, but he knew it wasn't real. He was on _Olympus,_ no monster would dare come close, he wasn't even sure they could get there. Why and how he was seeing things was a mystery. Did Gaea put this curse on him, as she lost power, as one last act of vengeance to ruin him?

Poseidon found him curled up on his bed in the recovery room. Percy was small, fragile, covering his ears and screwing his eyes shut, trying to block out the images and sounds.

When his dad tried to wake him up, assure him nothing was wrong, Percy curled in tighter. _He just wanted everything to go away why wouldn't it just leave?_

After five minutes of pleading and "Percy it's me," and "Please, look at me" Poseidon got his son to look at him.

It's said that eyes are the window to your soul. Poseidon looked into his son's eyes and saw broken fragments of the caring, loyal, brave, boy- no- _man_, he once knew.

Poseidon called Apollo and Dionysus and pulled every chip he had, every favor he could offer to fix his son's mind. Not much was needed to convince them though; each god had some respect for Percy.

His treatments began with questions, _What do you see? _and _Can you distinguish what is real and what is not?_

For five days it was just him and the three gods. He hadn't seen Annabeth since the end of the battle. He hadn't actually thought about it much, after all, it was all a blur. But now the ache and empty feeling in his chest was prominent.

_Can I see her? _It takes some time for Poseidon to convince Athena to let Percy see Annabeth, but Annabeth has been asking for him too. Athena can no longer deny her daughter.

Percy doesn't need anything except to hold her in his arms and that's what he does. For hours they just hold each other and talk because _they made it out_ and it is unbelievable. But he has hallucinations and she gets horrible nightmares and they are both afraid and _shattered._

But honestly, all he needs is to feel her, hold her. Whatever comes will come. Right now, it's one day, one hour at a time. He doesn't think he can handle much more than that.

**OK, how was that?**

**Sad, yes? **

**So, as many of you know, I'm a slow updater. I will try my best to be faster. I've been going through a really rough patch in life lately, but things are looking up. I'm getting a grip on things. I think I have it all figured out which is amazing and a little too good to be true.**

**All I need is your support : ) Thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, and followed. **


	3. Nightmares

It was dark.

Annabeth was running, she wasn't sure where. What she really wanted to do was stop, analyze her surroundings, and plan. Even if her surroundings were pitch black nothingness.

However, no matter how hard she willed it, her feet wouldn't stop moving. Since her sight was useless, her other senses were heightened.

She could clearly hear her gasping breath. Annabeth could run at a steady pace for a few miles; however this all out sprint was tiring draining her, quickly. Her sneakers pounded the floor beneath her. Annabeth assumed it was gravel, judging by the _crunch _made with every step.

When she licked her lips, she could taste her salty sweat, even though the air was cold. There was no identifiable smell, but if Annabeth could put a name on it, it would be _terror. _

Still Annabeth ran on, not knowing who or what she was running from.

The worst part? She knew it was all a dream. And she knew what happened in her dreams. But she couldn't stop them. She was sobbing, pleading to the gods and the Fates to save her.

After an eternity, Annabeth saw a pinprick of light. Her feet lead her towards it. She let out a strangled sort of wail.

When she burst into the light, she found she couldn't close her eyes or move. In the corner of her mind, something registered that the gravel beneath her feet was not, in fact, gravel. It was bones.

But something else had her attention. She could not turn away from the torture in front of her.

Annabeth had never been subject to physical torture. Psychological? Yes, everyday in Tartarus. But she had felt pain immense pain before, and she liked to think she could withstand torture in a heroic manner.

Seeing her loved ones hurt was something she could not bear.

Right in front of her, like a slap in the face, was Percy. His screams reminded her of the echoes she had heard bouncing of the walls of the tunnel to Mount St. Helen's. Only, she couldn't run away from these. They vibrated in her ears, demanding to be heard, and Percy, her wonderful, brave, perfect Percy had a defeated look in his eye.

She saw others too. Her mother, father, siblings (godly and not), her friends, Chiron, Sally, Paul, her old roommate. Everyone she had ever cared about in a cavern painted red with blood and fierce, raging fire.

"Annabeth," Percy's voice was an unrecognizable croak.

She was still standing in one place, unable to move.

"Why?" Athena was covered in golden ichor. Her voice sounded like rattling bones. Annabeth knew gods couldn't die, but her mother looked pretty close to it.

"Wh-what?" Her voice was a small breathe. "What?" She repeated, stronger.

"You betrayed us, Annabeth," Chiron groaned.

Then something terrifying happened. Their broken bodies, whether on the floor or on some torture device, started to be covered in dirt. Those who had strength thrashed against the earth, but those who didn't laid broken, waiting to be consumed.

"Look what you have done, my dear," Gaea's voice reverberated through the ground.

"No," Annabeth cried. "I didn't do anything."

"But you did. You were selfish. Remember?"

Images of giving into Gaea rushed through her mind. It was for her pride. _You will build me a palace, a world. _She had said. Memories flooded her, but she couldn't decipher what was real and what was not.

_No, I didn't do this._ Annabeth noticed she could move. The earth covered bodies now limped towards her.

"It's a dream." Annabeth said. But her voice was shaky.

"Is it?" Gaea's voice now came from behind her. Annabeth realized this was what she had been running from. Gaea stood as a large imposing figure made of out the Earth. "Did you not let you hubris control your actions?"

"No," Annabeth was backed up against a wall. "No, no, no."

"You betrayed me Annabeth." Percy's voice was barely recognizable, but she knew it was him in that specific figure. "We were almost there, we would close the Doors. But you stabbed me. Right in my back. My mortal point."

Some little voice was telling her that Percy no longer had the Achilles Curse, this couldn't be true. But she was so wrapped up in grief, she didn't listen.

"No, no, please. I'm sorry Percy. Please, I love you." Annabeth didn't wipe the tears that were falling rapidly down her face. She could taste the salt from them.

"But I don't love you. I never did."

Her world came crashing down. Percy was her permanent monument; the rock that would always be there that she could go to and seek refuge on from the stormy seas.

"You are nothing but a waste of space Annabeth"

"-my worst child-"

"-a traitor-"

"-we hate you-"

"-proud and haughty-"

"-only cared for yourself-"

The voices mingled with each other. Annabeth no longer could remember what was real and what Gaea had poisoned her mind with.

She gave into despair as the rock zombies descended on her, pulling her limbs apart. The little voice kept telling her it was a dream, but she couldn't hear. She wanted it to end, _she_ wanted to end.

"Annabeth!"

It was the voices of her loved ones, spitting her name.

"Annabeth! Wake up!"

Too late to wake up, she already made the mistake.

"Anna-Ow! Annabeth, Wise Girl,"

And her eyes snapped open. Her senses were bombarded. She was heaving trying to breathe and get enough air to fill her lungs. The soft sheets were rumpled and twisted around her legs. A thin sheen of sweat was on her skin. And two strong, safe arms were wrapped around her.

"It was a dream." Percy reassured her. Out of the corner of her eye she could she a red spot where her hand had hit him in a delirious state.

"I know." She said. Then she cried. Because it would happen again and again. And if it was real, she would be saved. She would be dead. And that would surely take away the pain, right?

Sometimes, the ends of her dreams seem like happy endings.

**Ok, much sadder than I originally intended. But, not bad. **

**Writing Annabeth's dreams is hard. I don't think I made it hard enough, but I'll keep practicing. If anyone has good links to torture fics or excerpts from books, let me know. I might need help with this.**

**That sounds really weird.**

**OK, awkward thing. I get a lot of plot bunnies. I have 4 uncompleted stories sitting in my folders. Why, you ask? Well, I think the best thing for me to do is write out most of the story and publish a chapter every other day or something. Because I don't want to lose interest or forget where my plot is going and quit.**

**So I'll have a poll of the different stories, not all are Percy Jackson, but you guys get to decide what I work on the most.**

**Cool?**

**Awesome sauce.**

**Summaries will be on my profile.**


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